Hello . . . this is Joe. Welcome to A Daily Drabble. Please add 100 words of prose or poetry as a comment on any date you want and in any order you want. Please reply on the drabbles you like. I'll moderate the comments at night, and they'll appear the next day. This is for everyone!
Cupun has sought the place were frozen hibiscus sprouts for years, and he thinks he’s finally found it. He calls out to me, and I crawl outside to look.
ReplyDelete“Over there! By the volcano! I think these are the right coordinates!”
Regardless, we are here for the week. Meriwa is taking samples of the trees to bring back, and Johansen has gone back to take a closer look by the inlet. I have no time for this. I’m tired, and my heated sleeping bag is nice and toasty. It’s time to sleep.
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ReplyDeleteThis mashup of weather whether or not plumb sense gets made makes me sharpen my adze—makes me trot out a totter of trochees…untrouble every Anthropocene, otherwise known as seven thousand starts to unfinished academic essays: suasion twangs tang of elegy, a jelly like plasma on TV—or a vitreous hide, its clarity handled by an account at Twitter. God, I am all enamor for the Ozark corner of ozone: honkytonk yells rebel against white-supremacist. And when the application asked my citizenship, I drew an extra option—circled Bullshit. But anyways, I suggests you read their shibboleths. Aurora cracks lighting.
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